Page 1 of Dark Desires

CHAPTER 1

ISABELLA

The night I ran, death wasn’t just waiting. It was starving for me.

Daughter of Chicago’s mafia king.

Prisoner of velvet cages and bulletproof windows.

The alley tastes like piss, stale beer and every bad decision I’ve ever made. Glass grating my heels as the city closes in, breath hot on my neck: You knew better, Isa. You should’ve stayed home.

But fuck—sometimes knowledge is the cruelest noose. My father’s men wear me like a second skin, a curse I can’t peel off.

So when the crack in the cage appeared, I didn’t hesitate. I slipped through.

Into bass, neon, a drink burning like confession but tasting like freedom. No chains. No eyes stalking my back.

A deadly lie I swallowed whole.

Because the shadows were already waiting.

Three shapes peel from the dark, circling—wolves with ribs sharp enough to cut, hunger in every step.

Teeth flash. Eyes gleam.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” My voice is steel. My knees? Paper.

They grin like predators who’ve found fresh meat.

One of them—fat, stupid, the kind of man who thinks violence is a right—rocks forward and leans on the dumpster, slurring. “Look at her. Glass doll all painted up, lost in the gutter. Bet Daddy paid plenty to keep her out of filth like us.”

Another one, wiry and ink-stained, laughs. “Lucky fucking night. Toys like you don’t wander alleys unless you’re beggin’ to be played with.” He spits the words like filth.

The third leers, slow and smug. “Sweet thing, you lost? Don’t worry. We’ll happily show you the way.”

Sick bastards. They smell lamb.

Wolves who think the cornered girl is easy meat.

But I was raised in darker woods than theirs.

I lift my chin, jaw locked like a blade. Ready to give them hell.

And then— A voice. Low, smooth.

Cold enough to freeze marrow.

“Three wolves for one girl? Cute.”

The stranger’s Russian accent slides out like velvet threaded with a blade.

Time skids to a stop.

At first he’s a shadow: broad shoulders, an outline like a silhouette carved from night. Every step is a warning bell.

“This is where you run,” he says.

Not a suggestion.